


drunk with the thought of sharing these blankets

by alltimeblow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drunk Stiles, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Post 3a, Spoilers, stiles has red underwear because i am hilarious okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 06:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltimeblow/pseuds/alltimeblow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had been drinking and goddamn this is not what Derek wanted at one in the morning on this cold Saturday morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drunk with the thought of sharing these blankets

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time doing anything remotely nsfw okay so please comments are hugely appreciated 
> 
> um i say their names too much in this and it bothers me a lot so i might return and try to rectify that at some point 
> 
> title credit; al sharpton by man overboard

Stiles had been drinking and goddamn this is not what Derek wanted at one in the morning on this cold Saturday morning. “You don’t  _get_  it!”

 

Derek growled lightly under his breath because he didn’t sign up for this when he came back. Scott was sober but had to make sure Lydia and Allison got to bed, and then take Danny back to his place with Isaac’s help. So here was Derek, walking upstairs in the Stilinski household with an intoxicated Stiles in his arms. A small blessing was the fact that the Sheriff was working the night shift.

 

“What don’t I  _get,_  Stiles?” He was snapping at him but he couldn't help himself as he opened the boy’s bedroom door, nudging him into the room.

 

Stiles stumbled a little before staggering over to his bed, undoing his trousers as he went. “You don’t get how shitty it is to be the single one in the group, like  _god_ , they’re all so together. It’s gross, man.” He was slurring a little but Derek could understand it just fine. He jumped to Stiles’ side as the kid nearly fell over trying to untangle his legs from his jeans, because he didn't want him him fall over and have yet another reason to whine at Derek.

 

He was wearing tight red boxer briefs and  _fuck_ , this is definitely not what Derek signed up for. “Stiles, it’s really not a big deal.” If he were sober Derek just knows he would've taken this opportunity to make a crude joke.

 

The kid huffed as he sat down on his bed and then flopped back, making his stomach muscles move in a way that Derek  _definitely_  wasn’t eagerly tracking with his eyes where his shirt had ridden up. Stiles covered his eyes with his left forearm, “You say that but _you’re_  not the one who has to sit and watch Scott kiss Allison or Isaac pull Lydia into his lap or  _hell_  listen to Danny discuss his new boyfriend.”

 

Stiles shifted a little, bringing one leg up onto the mattress as he worked his shirt off completely. Derek sat down in the desk chair, and it wasn’t because he was feeling a little weak and caught of guard, no sir. “Actually I have seen all of that.”

 

“Yeah but at least you’ve had _sex_  like  _god_ , do I have to look like a fucking underwear model to get laid in this town?” Stiles huffed, uncovering his face so he could scratch down his stomach. “You know what, don’t answer that because I don’t need it to be confirmed.”

 

Derek looked at him witheringly because  _seriously_? “Stiles have you  _seen_  yourself? Like especially right now.” Then Derek winced because he shouldn’t be here, saying these kind of things. It’s  _Stiles_ , the kid kind of rags on him all the time and these kind of things aren't something you say to the boy you snark with all the time.

 

Stiles laughed, stretching a little. It reminded Derek of a cat, stretching out in the sun. “Is this like when Danny said he’d have sex with me and _laughed_  because it’s such a brilliant joke? Oh man, I haven’t taken my meds.”

 

Stiles got up and walked over to the desk, leaning into Derek and reaching behind him to where the little bottle of his Adderall sat. His stomach was right in front of Derek, his hips so  _close_  to his mouth and it’s all Derek could think about; about how easy it would be to lean down and suck Stiles off like this considering how low the chair was. How easy it would be to grab the boy’s hips and keep his steady as he tasted him. He was half hard and this had to stop.

 

But Stiles had his fingers in Derek’s hair, a little grunt of surprise escaping, “Mmm, softer than I would’a thought.” It was a little murmur, his eyelids slipping closed as he swayed. “Why are you still here, Derek?”

 

“I have no idea,” Derek whispered because speaking loudly seemed to be such an insult to how this was going, as if it would break the small world they’d made for themselves at this ridiculous hour of the morning.

 

“I like it when you stay. I mean…” Stiles’ fingers stopped as he tried to figure out his words, his face twisted in confused frustration. “I mean, I missed you, w-we all missed you, man.” He closed his eyes. It’s the first time Stiles has even acknowledged the fact he’d left. It wasn’t something the pack didn’t talk about, but Stiles just acted like he’d been away for a day or a week instead of the three months he was absent. It was like a ‘how was your weekend?’ kind of deal instead of the ‘how was the quarter of a year you spent away from us?’ thing.

 

“You did?” Derek’s voice was small, and full of shock.

 

Stiles laughed a little above him, his fingers trailing down the side of Derek’s face until he got to his chin, then he went back to playing with his hair. “Of course I did, didn’t you miss me, big guy?”

 

Derek didn’t  _care_  if Stiles was drunk, he pulled the boy closer; an arm around his waist and his face buried in the muscles of his stomach. “Y-yeah, yeah I did,” He sounded wrecked, his voice hoarse. Derek’s lips grazed the teen’s stomach, making his toes curl. “You should get into bed, you’re going to have a hangover tomorrow.”

 

“Not that drunk, sourwolf,” Stiles ran a hand through the beta’s hair, down to his neck and onto his back, slipping under his shirt.

 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Derek whispered, lips moving hot against the boy’s skin. The room felt like it was too hot, too small, too much of everything. The werewolf ran his nose down the slight groove between muscles on his stomach as Stiles let out a little huff of a moan above.

 

His hand found his way into the back of the boys underwear, fingers trailing down his ass. “D- _Derek_.” Stiles pulled his hair slightly. Both of them were hard now, Derek could  _smell_  it, it was intoxicating and he didn't want it to go away - ever. 

 

“Tell me you want this, Stiles. If we start this I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

 

There was a harsher tug on his hair, a hand slapping his shoulder and an ass pushing itself into his hand firmly, “Don’t you dare stop, you asshole.”

 

He laughed a little, hand trailed further into Stiles’ boxers, “Oh  _I’m_  an asshole?” His finger brushed against the ring of muscle that made Stiles keen and grasp at Derek’s shoulders.

 

“Y-yeah you are. Fuck, Derek. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were gone three months, man. I thought may-maybe you’d find someone and you wouldn’t come back. That you guys would join a different pack. It was selfish, I didn’t  _want_  you to, I wanted you to come back here, to come home.” As soon as the last word escaped Stiles’ lips Derek kissed his stomach. “I wanted you to come back to us, to me.” He pulled the werewolf up, kissing him slowly, if a little sloppily. Derek fingers grasped his ass still, fingers kneading slightly as Stiles pressed himself against his body.

 

Derek could  _feel_  how hard he was and if that wasn’t enough then Stiles continued talking as he let Derek kiss his neck, teeth grazing every so often. “The amount of fucking dreams I had about you. Do you know how many times I woke up hard, Derek? How many times I jerked off whilst thinking about you touching me? I wondered what you’d taste like, how you’d feel in my mouth. I thought about the noises you’d make whilst you fucked me. I thought about how you’d look below me as I was riding you. I thought about how you’d be strong enough to hold me up against the wall and fuck me, and how you could pin me down and just _own me_.” Derek was rutting against him at this point because  _god_  this kid was his weakness. “I thought about how you’d bite me, how you’d mark me, leaving dark bruises on my hips and ass. I thought about how you’d open me up. Fuck, did I think about that. You’d be such an asshole about it, teasing and taking and being so slow, keeping me on the edge constantly. I bet you’d make me beg for it, get me sobbing as you worked me open, fucking me with your tongue.”

 

Derek walked them backwards until they fell onto the bed. Then he was up and undressing himself on his journey to turning off the light, before situating them both under the covers. “You’re such a tease. You can’t just say stuff like this, Stiles.” He covered Stiles with himself, leaning down and kissing him harshly, tongues sliding over each other with teeth nipping raw lips.

 

“Oh man, did I get the big bad wolf all worked up?” He laughed as he leant up and kissed under his ear, “Guess we’ll have to do something about that.” Before Derek realised what he was doing, Stiles was running his hand down the front of Derek’s boxers, groping him obscenely.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Stiles,” Derek was making aborted little moans into Stiles’ neck. He pinned Stiles’ roaming hands above him and rolled his hips, wanting to bathe in the sounds pouring out of the kid’s mouth. “Talk.”

 

“Does this get you off? Knowing I think about you when I touch myself? I started fingering myself two weeks after you left, after I realised how much I wanted you, how much I missed you. Every time, I thought about how your fingers would feel so much different, how they wouldn’t be as long, how they’d be wider. God there was one night where all I could think about was you spanking me for it, punishing me for thinking about you being the one to touch me. I thought about you fucking me on every surface of your apartment. I thought about fooling around with you in my bedroom when my dad was home. I thought about blowing you in the kitchen, in the shower, on the sofa. _The sofa_. I thought-  _Fuck, yeah right_  f- _uck_ , there. I uh, I thought about you bending me over the sofa, hands on my shoulders, pushing me onto you. I thought about uh, I thought about fucking you.”

 

Derek was  _done_  with this kid. His grasp on his wrists slipped and his hips stuttered as he carried on rutting against him. “ _Yes_.”

 

Stiles whined as Derek grazed his teeth along his jaw, “You like that? You like thinking about me fucking you? I’d make you finger yourself for me, then I’d fuck you slowly, forcing you to make all those dirty little sounds. I’d make you pull at the sheets, I’d make you pant so hard, I’d fill you up until all you could think about was me inside of you.”

 

Derek came before Stiles and he _knew_  he was going to be smug about that but he couldn’t care about it as his muscles shook lightly from his orgasm and as he reached into the boys damp underwear and stroked him, finger sliding over the slit. “Derek.” It was a broken little whisper between the heavy breathing after Stiles tensed and came over Derek's fingers. “God, that was better than everything I thought about.” Derek laughed tiredly as he slid off both of their underwear, using it to clean them up best he could before he slipped down to Stiles’ side. “I’m glad you’re back.” Stiles kissed him lightly once before settling in under his chin, arms wrapped around his back, legs tangled.

 

“So am I.” 


End file.
